“I have evidence for you.”
This is why Bonds tolerates visits from the fiendish specter.He always comes with something to help a case.
The figure steps closer, and the ambient light slides off his giant form.He’s in some sort of smooth body armor.Bonds wishes he could study the man’s suit up close in better lighting.The black color makes the figure one with the night.
“Rex Roy sent me.”
“The billionaire?”
“Yes.A man approached his wife last night and gave her another letter from the Bondage Killer.”
The few half-awake brain cells fire and Bonds remembers his new single degree of separation from the famous Roy.“Inara?”It might be a trick of the light, but the figure seems to stiffen slightly.“I mean, Detective Ramos?”
“Yes.The man’s name is Ted Raider.I’ve prepared a file on him.”The figure points, looking so much like the specter of death that Bonds is reluctant to turn.But he does and sees a black case sitting on a nearby ledge.He picks it up and flips through it.
In his career, he’s looked through thousands of case files.Habit allows him to scan for the pertinent details.“A photographer?”
“That’s how he got access.”
At the end of the stack is a stained letter in a plastic case.Bonds can smell the sour, smokey scent without even opening it.“This is what he gave her?”
“Yes.”
After the greeting, “Dear Swallow,” the writing degenerates so much that Bonds can barely read it.Only a few passages—“Your doom” and “Come to me”—are even legible.
“This is like the others.”
“Yes.”
Bonds tucks the letter back into the case.He’s been staring at letters like this for so long, he’s practically memorized them.It makes him sick, but he can’t stop hoping they’ll reveal more clues.
“The Bondage Killer sticks to his MO.But he’s never used a delivery boy before.”
“Raider swears he received these letters anonymously, with instructions to hand deliver them personally to Mrs.Roy.”
“You’ve spoken to him?”Bonds looks up sharply.
“This is the third time Mrs.Roy has been personally targeted,” the man continues without acknowledging the question.
“Well, he’s fixated on her.”Bonds can’t keep the worry from his voice.Whatever he thinks about the enigmatic Detective Ramos, he feels protective of her.He tells himself he’d feel that way about any of his colleagues, but the truth is this detective is special.“What about this Ted Raider?
“He claims he’s never had personal contact with the Bondage Killer, that the serial killer left these things for him to deliver.He’s scared out of his mind, afraid he’s the Bondage Killer’s next target.He’ll insist on witness protection.”
“Gods.”Bonds’ brain is skipping ahead, thinking about the next steps.Tracking down the potential witness, coaxing him in for an interview.It seems like this stranger—this warrior of the night or amateur detective—already shook Ted down.Bonds should be protesting the breach of protocol and harassment of a citizen, but practically, he knows that Ted will be spooked and ready to talk.It’ll be easy to play good cop.
“He’ll be delivered to you in thirty minutes.You can question him then.”
The statement is so bizarre that Bonds’ mouth goes slack and he almost loses his cigarette.This is the first time the figure has promised to deliver a witness along with evidence.“What the fuck is going on?”
“Rex Roy is personally interested in this investigation.”
“He is, huh?I’m not in the business of bending to a billionaire’s requests.”Bonds knows the way the world works.He knows oligarchs rule, and the rest of humanity scrambles under the table for scraps.He’s always tried to keep a low profile, but there are things he won’t compromise on.“Tell him to keep out of my case.”
“He only wants to help.”There’s a note of approval in the man’s voice, but perhaps Bonds is imagining it.“Roy will do anything to protect his wife.”
“And I want to solve this case.We want the same thing, right?”Bonds glances down at the file in his hand.He looks away for only a moment, but when he looks up, the figure is gone.Disappeared.
The hardened detective isn’t unsettled by much, but this makes his mouth fall open.He turns in a circle, peering into the shadows to figure out which way the stranger went.He looks out onto the city, half-expecting to see a fleeing stranger racing over the roofs, but there’s nothing but the tired glow of the city lights, the darkness before dawn.
